


Something New

by osunism



Series: Like Real People Do [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Avoidance, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osunism/pseuds/osunism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two people getting in one another's way because they're afraid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

> Amamansa uses sex to cope, and Zaeed doesn't mind. I love these two.

Zaeed has rough hands and a foul mouth, and it promises the hard usage and violent sex she’s been craving lately. Amamansa likes that he doesn’t question her motivations, likes that he doesn’t care why she calls him to her, likes that he knows exactly what it takes to make her come.

When she catches her breath and he rearranges himself, she doesn’t ask him to stay, nor does he ask if he can. He’s old and tired, and while falling asleep in her nice bed would be ideal, he knows what this is.

But tonight’s different.

Ama’s hands are gentler, she kisses him deeper, more, and there’s a closeness to her he feels when they fuck. Fuck…fight…it used to be one and the same for them, and neither one of them parted without a few bruises.

But tonight is very different.

Normally she’s clawing at him like a goddamn cat, trapping him between her muscled legs like some kind of serpent. When she does that, he comes almost immediately after, spent and aching in all of the parts of him that aren’t synthetic.

But tonight she’s the exact opposite. She doesn’t trap him…instead, she opens up, draws him in. She’s the ocean, now, and he’s the goddamn shore. When she surges, he’s there to meet her, and when she pulls away he waits to see her reaction. He can sense the difference in her from the pitch of her cries, and the way her hands come up, cupping his face.

Shit.

Her hands are as rough and war-ready as his, but still prettier. And she kisses him open-mouthed and passionate, something he still can’t expect from a woman who is like a snowstorm on the battlefield.

Tonight is different.

When she comes, it’s a gradual thing, a wave building up to dwarf him in its shadow, and it crashes over them both. Zaeed has fucked a lot of people in his day, and it’s been some time, but a wet cunt is a wet cunt and Ama is a goddamn waterfall right now.

He comes, hard, quick, muscled arms shuddering from holding himself up.

So she draws him down.

The contact is new. She usually shoves him off of her so she can breathe, but she’s holding onto him, waiting until the last waves are done. Slowly, almost tenderly, she releases him. Zaeed rolls over, stares at the ceiling, chest heaving.

They don’t speak, and they don’t move. He’s afraid to ask her what happens next. The window of time it takes for him to dress and leave is already closing, and she hasn’t moved away from him.

“That was different.” She says, breaking the silence. Zaeed can see her breasts heaving out of the corner of his eyes. The left one’s got a pretty bruise in the shape of his teeth on it. That was from last week. Ama’s got tits that could stop traffic on Earth, brown and supple, with nipples that are so sensitive he barely brushes them and she’s dripping.

Who knew a woman capable of that much violence on the battlefield could be so damn sexual?

“You’re a goddamn machine.” He says, still breathless. “Think you should drop me and go for a younger, sportier model.”

Ama laughs, clearly amused.

“Zaeed if I wanted some young dick I would have gotten some. Besides, you’re what I want.”

Zaeed chuckles. “Me? Sweetheart I’m a goddamn mess. I’m not what you want.”

Ama sits up on her elbows. She stares at him a moment and he’s a bit unnerved by the subtle red glow of her dark eyes, the fissures of scars along her cheek.

“I’m serious.” She says and Zaeed doesn’t acknowledge anything his heart is doing.

“We fuck, Shepard. And sometimes we fight. And sometimes we get a little confused about which one we’re doing. But let’s not start getting delusions about what this is.”

Ama comes closer, and he can smell himself on her. It feels goddamn good fucking _christ_.

“And what is this, Massani?” She asks in that voice that’s clear, leaving no room for misunderstanding. Zaeed sits up, not wanting to be overpowered by her, but it’s too late.

“You called me, sweetheart,” he tells her, “so it’s your call. I don’t usually do this sort of thing. Not for this long anyway. But I figure if I’m going to go through an unmapped relay and not come back, I might as well try something new.”

Ama frowns.

“So that’s what this is to you, eh? Something new?” She climbs out of bed. Zaeed feels the closeness from their earlier antics dissipate almost instantly. She’s heading to the shower. When she vanishes into the bathroom, Zaeed has his answer. It’s for the best anyway.

When Amamansa comes out, toweling her hair dry, she finds her cabin empty. She does not want to know why her heart sinks.


End file.
